


'' ' -Jt 










LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 

Shelf LS °) I 





z* ; 








These Letters were original- 
ly written for the NEW YORK 
Observer, and by the kind 
permission of the editors are 
now published in their pres- 
ent form. 



FRIENDLY LETTERS 
TO GIRLS. 



BY 

HELEN A. HAWLEY, 

AUTHOR OF "FRIENDLY TALKS WITH BOYS. 






1 NOV 14 : 



NEW YORK : 
ANSON D. F. RANDOLPH & COMPANY, 

38 WEST TWENTY-THIRD STREET. 






COPYRIGHT, T888, BY 

The New York Observer. 



COPYRIGHT. 1891, BY 

Anson D. F. Randolph & Company. 



EDWARD O. JENKINS' SON, 

Printer, StereotyPer. and Electrotypes 
20 North William St., New York. 



TOPICS. 



I. Introductory 5 

II. Faces, 9 

III. Unselfishness, . . . . .13 

IV. Tact 17 

V. Curiosity, 21 

VI. Courage, 25 

VII. Speech, . 29 

VIII. Conversation, 33 

IX. Reading, 37 

X. Thinking, 41 

XI. Manners, 45 

XII. Dress, 49 

XIII. Money, 53 

XIV. Work, 58 

XV. Service, 62 

XVI. Specialties, 66 

XVII. Friendships 70 

XVIII. Letter- Writing, .... 74 

XIX. Reading Aloud 78 

XX. Influence, 82 

XXI. Missions, 86 

XXII. Missionaries, 90 

XXIII. Concluding, ...... 94 



LETTERS TO GIRLS. 



i. 

INTRODUCTORY. 

Was there ever a girl who did not like to 
get letters ? I am permitted to open a cor- 
respondence with you, and though you may 
think it a rather one-sided affair, since I do all 
the writing, I shall know your thoughts will 
come back to me in response, and if I help 
you in any way, that will be a great reward. 

First, I must tell you that I am a girl too, 
though I should be afraid to say how many 
years have passed over my head, and I don't 
quite know whether to call myself an old 
young girl or a young old girl. At all events, 
I haven't forgotten my young days, and I 
can't look on your bright faces without feel- 
ing that out of the experience of these later 
years might come some suggestions which 
would be of use to you. I cannot look at you 

(5) 



6 LETTERS TO GIRLS. 

without wishing that in this formative time 
you may give heed to many little things, to 
many little habits, which will go far to making 
or marring your future lives. So, if you won- 
der what I shall write about, I can only say I 
shall write about anything and everything 
that comes into my mind, which I think may 
help you to grow into good, sweet, pure, at- 
tractive womanhood, because I believe such 
a womanhood as that is a great gift, and a 
power for blessing the world. I like to tell 
young girls that there is no grace of manner, 
no beauty of expression, no winsomeness of 
speech, but may be made the means of doing 
good, of being better servants to our Master. 
For I start out with the hope that each of you 
to whom I write has given the best gift to the 
Saviour — her heart. If there is one who has 
not, what can I say but to beg you to do it 
now ? There is no right living without that 
to begin with. 

Taking so much for granted, you will not 
wonder if every now and then a text from the 
Bible slips into these letters. I should be 
sorry to write anything which couldn't be 
fortified by God's word ; and I think, too, if 
you were to search, you would be surprised to 
find how much is taught there about manners, 



INTRODUCTORY. 7 

and dress, and speech, and looks, to say nothing 
of the noble qualities which go to make up 
character. It seems too bad that so many 
people think of religion as something apart 
from common, every-day life, something to be 
put on with the Sunday gown ; so I dare say 
they might be shocked at that last sentence. 
I wish it may be far otherwise with my girls. 
I wish them to regard the Bible with rever- 
ence, but with loving reverence, much as they 
would the word of a Father, for such it is ; and 
to know there is not a place in life where it will 
not direct them, either by principles or precise 
rules. 

I had nearly forgotten to say that, though I 
write to the girls, I fancy many boys will read 
these letters too. For though it is one of the 
most dishonorable things to read a private 
letter without the owner's consent, that rule 
does not apply to a letter published in a news- 
paper. Then, too, I know when I was younger, 
if I had seen anything written to the boys, I 
should have been sure to read that first, and 
" judge others by yourself " is an old proverb. 
It wouldn't be strange if the boys should 
sometimes find bits adapted to them, since 
human nature is much the same, whether in 
boys or girls. It is said, too, that " every true 



8 LETTERS TO GIRLS. 

man has something of the woman in him." 
So, though I write to the sisters, I hereby give 
leave to the brothers to appropriate any hints 
which they may find suitable. 

And now, dear girls, having introduced my- 
self, may we be better friends by and by. 



II. 

FACES. 

Have you read about the new composite 
photography, where by taking one negative 
upon another the faces of forty or fifty are 
blended into one ? Do you suppose the scien- 
tists would call that " the survival of the 
fittest"? 

As I sat down to write to-night it was with 
the strong desire to see you, not with portraits 
blended, but each as she is for herself. In my 
thoughts I try to picture you. There would 
be complexions, blonde and brunette ; hair, 
curly and plain, long and short ; eyes, blue 
and black, and hazel and gray ; noses, Roman 
and pug, and saucily turned up; what an end- 
less variety ! but how shall I put them to- 
gether as they belong? 

Did you ever think about this wonderful 
human face ? Millions of faces over this earth, 
and no two of them precisely alike ? Even 
those who resemble each other so closely that 

(9) 



10 LETTERS TO GIRLS. 

we cannot tell them apart have some trick of 
look, some little thing by which their nearest 
friends identify them, and say with confidence, 
"This is Clara, and that is Claribel." How 
this diversity brings to our thoughts the skill 
of the Creator ! 

But to return to your faces ; I suppose there 
is not one of you but wishes to be beautiful, 
and a perfectly right and proper wish it is, too. 
Perhaps if I should say, take so much of this, 
and so much of that, and so much of the 
other, articles to be bought at the chemist's, 
mix them and use so and so, some of you 
would be silly enough to do it. But I shall do 
nothing of the sort. For there is beauty and 
beauty. You have heard of the kind which is 
only "skin deep"; it is the other kind we 
wish to talk about. Shall we call it beauty 
of expression? Well, I venture to say there 
is not the plainest girl of you all but may 
have that if she chooses, and though what 
I shall say about it will be only the merest 
hints, I am sure you are clever enough to 
carry them out. 

Emerson says, "There is no beautifier of 
complexion, or form or behavior, like the wish 
to scatter joy, and not pain, around us." Sup- 
pose you should commit that sentence to mem- 



FACES. n 



ory, and often repeat it, and then let it live it- 
self in your lives. Recall the friends who have 
made themselves dear by their unselfish ways. 
Does it ever occur to you to think the.r faces 
plain, or anything but lovely ? Tennyson says 
of Mary, " Her eyes are homes of silent prayer. 
Could there be more beautiful eyes than those ? 
A dear friend of mine who had once passed 
through a bitter sorrow, told me that in the 
midst of it her father one day said to her, ten- 
derly, " My daughter, don't let your face settle 
into lines. Break them up by forcing yourself 
to smile, even if you don't feel like it." It was 
wise advice, though hard to follow, but she did 
it bravely, and had her reward in the peaceful, 
happy face which is hers to this day. 

You have no idea how quickly anger, irrita- 
bility, impatience, or even petty vanity, leave 
their traces on the countenance. Perhaps each 
of us can remember the teasing remark of a 
big brother when we were indulging in a fit of 
the sulks, "Sis, how would you like to have 
your face freeze so ? " Exasperating as it was, 
it carried a weighty truth. 

I might go on giving hints which would 
make this letter too long. Some day I shall 
write about other things, which, you will have 
the wit to see, all tend toward this beauty of 



12 LETTERS TO GIRLS. 

expression, since there is nothing in character 
or life which does not help to make or mar it. 
You know, dear girls, I do not speak of this 
to make you vain — that would quite spoil all. 
As I close let me repeat a stanza which will 
tell exactly what I do mean : 

" I would my friends should see 
In my glad eyes the beauty of His face ; 
Should learn that in His presence there is peace, 
Strength, and contentment, that can never cease ; 
And that His guiding grace 
Can lead to patience and humility." 



III. 

UNSELFISHNESS. 

There is an "art in putting things." I 
might have placed " selfishness " at the head 
of this letter, but just think how much pleas- 
anter the other word is ;- and as I wish to talk 
a little as to how we may have the quality it 
expresses, I will let it stand. 

There is a brief text which says a great deal 
to me, and often helps me in my own efforts, 
as I hope it may you. " Even Christ pleased 
not Himself." He came as our example, and 
has promised to help us if we try to walk as 
He walked. 

Now I know you all think of a selfish per- 
son as about the worst sort, and have no idea 
the term could apply to you. That is because 
you haven't lived long enough yet to be well 
acquainted with the little pronoun " I." Even 
some older persons never understand its power 
very well. I remember once that, in talking 
with a friend, I was regretting my own self- 

(13) 



14 LETTERS TO GIRLS. 

love, when she said : " Why, I don't think 
that is a fault of mine. I don't want any- 
thing which belongs to another. I want other 
people to have their rights . - 1 - b ! * ' I thought, 
44 so do I, but my selfishness goes deeper than 
that," and the text I have quoted flashed into 
my mind. 

I don't know that I can define unselfishness 
better than to say it is a denial of self, and 
that, you remember, is what the Bible says 
we are to do daily. Once I heard a sermon 
preached from the parable of the good Samar- 
itan. The thought developed was, " Oppor- 
tunity the test of character." Many, many 
times since then have I thought of it, as 
some slight action has revealed the heart 
within. 

In a public library a man gathered all the 
files of daily newspapers, and put his elbow 
on them, for his own reading, so that no one 
could take one without special request, and 
that where others had the same rights as he. 
I had heard him talk well in prayer-meeting, 
I doubted not he was a good man and a 
Christian, but was that quite unselfish ? 

In the same place a woman rolled up the 
file and hid it behind a window-shutter while 
she went to supper, so that she might claim 



UNSELFISHNESS. 1 5 

it at once on her return. A little thing, you 
say ; but was it unselfish ? 

Again, I saw some children playing on the 
sidewalk in the summer twilight. Along 
came a poor girl, ragged and dirty, with hard- 
ly clothes sufficient to cover the little body ; 
buttons off or not fastened, the child was not 
clad enough for decency. The other children 
jeered at her and said naughty, cruel words. 
Upon the piazza of a house sat a dainty 
woman all in white ; she looked pure as if no 
speck of soil had ever touched her. I heard 
her call the little waif to her, saw her take the 
child into her own room, heard her kind tones, 
and when, in a few moments, they came out, 
the buttons were all fastened, here and there 
a trusty pin was doing service, and the forlorn 
bit of humanity went on her way, safe at least 
for that time from insult. That was a little 
thing, too, but did it not show a sweet nature? 
I don't really think she wanted to touch the 
dirty child. I heard her scrubbing her hands 
directly, but there was a happy light in her 
eyes. She pleased not herself. 

This brings another thought which may in- 
volve a paradox. (Girls, if you don't know 
the meaning of that word, stop and look it 
up — it will do you good. I say so, thinking 



l6 LETTERS TO GIRLS. 

of my own young days and the charm the big 
dictionary had then, and still has, for me.) 
You will often find that the highest pleasure 
comes from not pleasing one's self. Just try 
it. " He that studies his content wants it." 
It seems to me even our grammars teach un- 
selfishness ; they tell us we must not say " I 
and you," but "you and I." That means you 
must put some other self before yourself. 



IV. 
TACT. 

Some people say tact is a special gift, but 
I incline to the opinion that all may have 
it in a degree, and that it may even be culti- 
vated so that those who begin with little may 
end by being called " persons of great tact." 
It is closely allied to the unselfishness we 
talked about, but is not quite that. Indeed, 
the more I think of it, the more it seems to 
me it is living out the golden rule — doing unto 
others as we would have them do to us. It 
is that fine sense which puts ourselves in their 
places, enabling us to see just how we would 
like to be treated under similar circumstances. 

You would not talk about the gallows to a 
man whose father was hung; that would not 
be tact, as anybody can see. But, my dears, 
it isn't tact, either, when you give yourselves 
airs because of any superiority of dress, or 
house, or accomplishment, in the presence of 
some other girl who has not your advantages. 
Indeed, I am afraid that is something worse 

(17) 



1 8 LETTERS TO GIRLS. 

than want of tact ; it is positively vulgar ; yet 
I am afraid some of you have done it. 

Let me tell you what President Tyler said 
to his daughter-in-law when she was about to 
preside at the White House: "You should 
always remember that nothing betrays a little 
soul so much as the exhibition of airs or as- 
sumptions under any circumstances." I might 
add that until one has grown old enough to 
be philosophical, there are few things which 
render one more uncomfortable than such 
assumptions by would-be superiors. 

At a summer resort I once spent some 
weeks in a cottage where were gathered a va- 
riety of folk. One of the number was an old 
lady who had long passed her threescore years 
and ten. She was quite alone in the world, 
and was a 'bright, intelligent New England 
woman, if a bit old-fashioned. At this time 
she had a painful cough, which seemed as if 
it would tear her in pieces, and was distress- 
ing'to hear. In her quaint way she called it 
her " chronic," and talked about her " broni- 
chal " tubes. Her room was at one end of 
the house, and mine at the other, so I was 
not much disturbed, else I might not have 
been more considerate than the rest. One 
day she came to me after an especially hard 



TACT. 19 

night, bringing a little old copy of " Gold 
Dust," and said : " I want to give you this 
book as a thank-offering, for I believe you are 
the only person in this house who hasn't com- 
plained of my cough. One says, ' How hard 
you did cough last night ; it kept me awake.' 
Another asks me if I couldn't suppress it if I 
tried. It is my cross " — with the tears in her 
old eyes. I demurred, but she insisted, and 
with her trembling hand wrote on the fly-leaf 
my name and her own, and the words: "A 
thank-offering." I felt it was undeserved, but 
the book lies on my table now, and teaches 
me sweet lessons. The others were kind and 
well-meaning ; some of them had tried to be 
sympathetic, but they had not considered 
what it would be to take her place ; they had 
not used tact. 

Tact knows when to speak and when to be 
silent ; when to act and when to do nothing. 
Tact is touch in its first definition — that most 
sensitive of senses. The blind man passes his 
fingers over your face and tells how you look ; 
so tact touches hearts and souls, and through 
that touch knows their likeness, and what will 
help or hurt them. 

Now, my girls, do you wonder why I wish 
you to have it ? Not only to make you more 



20 LETTERS TO GIRLS. 

agreeable, but because without it you will do 
very little good in the world. Good people 
without it are apt to be great blunder-heads; 
but with it, whatever be the difference of cir- 
cumstances, you can always approach others 
on the ground of a common humanity. 

Do you remember St. Paul said, " I am made 
all things to all men"? That did not mean 
any sacrifice of principles ; it was genuine 
tact. Do you suppose it cost him no pains- 
taking? But he took the pains for the very 
reason each of us ought to do the same, " That 
I might by all means save some." 



CURIOSITY. 

You and I are Eve's daughters, and that 
with many persons is as much as to say, we 
have curiosity. There have been no end of 
jokes made about the indulgence of this pro- 
pensity by our first mother, and sorry jokes 
they are, too, in my opinion, considering all 
the sin and grief that have come into the 
world in consequence. 

But there are two kinds of curiosity ; or, 
rather, there are two ways of using what is 
really a most useful and praiseworthy gift. I 
would not like to look into your fresh young 
faces and see no curiosity in them ; that would 
be the same as saying there was no intelli- 
gence, no mind there. Without it, no learned 
man would ever have searched out the secrets 
of science, no astronomer swept the heavens 
with his telescope, no explorer gone to the 
Arctic seas ; without it, not one of you school- 
girls would take a genuine interest in her les- 
sons. So remember that curiosity is some- 

(21) 



22 LETTERS TO GIRLS. 

thing to be used when it is turned upon right 
subjects, and when those are subjects which 
you have a right to look into. 

I am free to own, however, that the word is 
oftenest spoken in its unpleasant sense, and 
when we say such a person is very curious we 
picture to ourselves a meddlesome, prying in- 
dividual. There is a sacredness about the 
personal affairs of others which should keep us 
from trying to look into them, except in those 
cases where we can be of use, and then a true 
delicacy will point out away far removed from 
this obnoxious one. 

But I want you to remember there is a 
curiosity of eye, as well as of speech, which is 
often the more disagreeable of the two. You 
can, if you are quick-witted, parry an inquisi- 
tive question, but there is little defence from 
inquisitive eyes. Let me tell you about a 
woman who comes into my mind as an illus- 
tration. When I meet her I am sure she 
knows every article of dress I wear; when she 
enters my room her glance takes in its entire 
contents. Now you may say that is due to 
her cultivated power of observation. Perhaps 
you will recall how Agassiz (I think it was) in- 
creased that power by looking into a crowded 
shop window each day as he passed, and then 



CURIOSITY. 23 

repeating the articles he remembered, until at 
last one glance was sufficient for him to know 
all. But this is different, for the look of the 
person I write of, brings a sense of scrutiny and 
of disparagement. I am not only conscious 
she has seen all, but if there is any defect she 
has seen that a little more clearly than any- 
thing else. She is not a great talker, but she 
asks pointed questions ; if I am sad from any 
cause she lets me know she has observed 
it, and probably assigns some unpleasant rea- 
son for my depression. In short, she makes 
me feel as if I was on a dissecting table. So 
far as I know she is a lady, but I wouldn't 
trust her alone in my room, I should be afraid 
for my letters ! 

I grant there are not many such ; it is not 
often so many phases of a disagreeable trait 
meet in one person. I would not have my 
girls like that. You do not wish others to 
feel as if they must put on defensive armor 
the moment you appear. Perhaps I ought to 
guard you against flying to the other extreme 
of cool indifference, though that is not a com- 
mon fault in young people. There is a kindly 
interest in others, growing out of a good heart, 
which only seeks to know enough to help and 
sympathize, which tries to see what is praise- 



24 LETTERS TO GIRLS. 

worthy, which tries not to see what another 
would hide. 

It is interesting to notice how the qualities 
we have been discussing run into and overlap 
each other. We saw that tact was closely re- 
lated to unselfishness, and by this time your 
bright minds will catch the thought, that tact 
will show you the distinction between a proper 
and an improper curiosity. The kind which 
looks into and questions about things, or prin- 
ciples, or public events, is usually right ; that 
which peers uninvited into a private life is 
usually idle and wrong. 



VI. 
COURAGE. 

In one of her charming books, Mrs. Ewing 
tells this wise little story : " That Father in 
God who bade the young men to be pure, and 
the maidens brave, greatly disturbed a mem- 
ber of his congregation, who thought that the 
great preacher had made a slip of the tongue. 
' That the girls should have purity and the 
boys courage, is what you would say, good 
Father?' 'Nature has done that,' was the 
reply, ' I meant what I said.' " 

You will see the truth of the words, I am 
sure. Nature has not made you, in every 
sense, as brave as your brothers, therefore you 
will do well to gain all you can in that direc- 
tion, from habit and education. Now some- 
body throws up her hands in dismay, and cries, 
" She wants us to grow up to be forward and 
unwomanly ! " Not a bit of it. There is a 
vast difference between true courage and un- 
seemly boldness, and I beg you not to indulge 
the notion that it will make you interesting to 
be afraid of everything. The chances are that 

(25) 



26 LETTERS TO GIRLS. 

it would make you silly nuisances. I don't 
think lam writing to girls who would put on 
airs of that sort. 

But I am writing to those who, from consti- 
tution or temperament, or condition of nerves, 
or the thousand and one things which go to 
make up physical and mental habits, have 
great need of good advice on this point. I 
venture to say that some of you are afraid in 
the dark, afraid to sit alone of an evening, 
afraid to see suffering, and a host of other 
things, to say nothing of imaginary forebod- 
ings, which are often the torment of life. 

Will you believe me if I tell you such things 
are largely under your own control ? A little 
will-power exerted now when you are young, 
with a persistent resolve to conquer, will bring 
the victory in most cases, and you will grow 
up into calm, self-reliant, useful women. For 
the time will come when you will be obliged 
to stay alone ; when you must minister to the 
suffering ; when you must see the dying ; un- 
less you choose to shirk the most sacred duties 
of life. 

I know there is a high moral courage which 
does every duty, even though with quivering, 
shrinking nerves. But would it not be better 
if the nerves did not quiver and shrink? would 



COURAGE. 27 

it not be better if the woman could work 
without suffering equal to that which she 
ministers unto ? It is because I know some- 
thing of this kind of endurance, that I wish 
you may be spared it. 

I can't help thinking parents are somewhat 
to blame ; not yours, or yours, my dear, but 
the parents of some other girl. I have often 
thought a child should be trained to fear noth- 
ing but sin. 

A little girl of five or six was in a railway 
carriage with her mother when a violent thun- 
der-storm came up. The darkness which 
blotted out the day was terrible ; the vivid 
lightning and the crashing thunder were more 
terrible still. The frightened child, nestling 
close in the encircling arm, whispered, " Don't 
you think we will be killed, mamma?" The 
mother said, " We could not live a moment, 
Anna, if God did not keep us, and He is just as 
well able to keep us now in the midst of a storm, 
as in pleasant weather." Was it not a wise an- 
swer? She could not say truthfully, " I know we 
shall not be killed," but she did put a great truth 
into her reply ; and the little one, comforted by 
the sense of our Heavenly Father's care, for- 
got her fears. I commend the incident to you, 
girls, as showing the true source of courage. 



23 LETTERS TO GIRLS. 

Did you ever notice the many times in the 
Bible that we are told to " Fear not " ? Look 
them up, please. It would seem as if God 
knew what would be one of our chief tenden- 
cies, and then was so kind as to tell us over 
and over, " Be strong and of a good courage." 



VII. 
SPEECH. 

"SPEECH is silver, silence is golden," is a 
proverb you may have heard. Well, that 
depends. Your brothers, if they read this, 
may suggest that, being girls, you must talk. 
Though you would not admit it to them, a 
certain inner consciousness may tell you it is 
the truth, and if it is, it naturally follows that 
you ought to talk well. There is so much to 
suggest concerning this, I foresee it will need 
two letters ; so the next one will be on conver- 
sation, or I might call this " How to talk," and 
the next, "What to talk about." 

You will say, " I know how to talk. I am 
neither a baby nor a deaf mute. I have all the 
organs of speech." True, but stop a moment. 
You have heard a great deal, doubtless, about 
cultivating the voice, and have always asso- 
ciated that with singing. Perhaps you do not 
sing well, though I trust you do — well enough 
to join in our beautiful, helpful hymns of wor- 
ship. But I wish you to think how much 

(29) 



30 LETTERS TO GIRLS. 

more the voice is used in ordinary speech than 
in song, and that it is quite as necessary it 
should be pleasing in tone for the first as for 
the last. 

I hear you say : " There are no teachers ; 
girls go to vocalists to be trained to sing." So 
they do, but you can teach yourself to speak 
musically, if you will take thought about it. 
There is one quotation I wish each of you would 
learn : " Her voice was ever soft, gentle, and 
low, — an excellent thing in woman." Do not 
confuse a low voice with an indistinct one. On 
the contrary, it can be clear and far-reaching, 
like a sweet-toned bell. Cultivate the quiet, 
gentle tones, and not the high, shrieking ones. 

Of course you all know how anger, discon- 
tent, peevishness, and the like betray them- 
selves in the voice, but I am writing to girls 
who are trying to put away such bad things 
out of their hearts. 

We come now to another side of the sub- 
ject, which I may put in this form : To talk 
well, you must attend to grammar and pro- 
nunciation. Your nominatives and verbs, 
your nouns and adjectives, must agree, and 
you must pay especial heed to contractions. 
It will not do to say " Those kind of things," 
or "He don't" for "He does not." I sup- 



SPEECH. 31 

pose you will think, " These are trifling mis- 
takes ; what does it matter if I do make 
them?" Well, it would not matter so much 
if you slipped them off with your girlhood, 
but if not corrected now they will cling to 
you through life. Many intelligent women, 
whose later years have brought them advan- 
tages hitherto denied, betray by just such 
trips as these the lack of early cultivation. 

I often think a good dictionary is one of 
the best educators. Indeed, I know a lady 
who was confined to her home by many years 
of invalidism. Partly as a recreation to while 
away the weary hours, she looked the diction- 
ary over and over, studied pronunciation, 
learned the use of synonyms, compared words 
with words to discover the nicest shades of 
meaning, until she became noted among her 
friends for her purity of speech. 

Perhaps you begin to question what all this 
has to do with the kind of life these letters 
are intended to touch upon. I will tell you. 
It is always right to be right ; and right speech 
is a power for good. There is no one over 
whom you will have less influence because of it, 
and over most persons it will largely increase 
your influence. It is a mistake to suppose that 
Christians who use rude, incorrect language 



32 LETTERS TO GIRLS. 

have more power over others in consequence ; 
their power is rather in spite of their mistakes. 

Let me give you one illustration of my 
meaning. I once heard a woman, a returned 
missionary, speak to an audience of men and 
women. She had spent years in the foreign 
held, and had done noble work. Perhaps the 
long use of a barbarous tongue was the cause, 
but she did not speak the Queen's English 
quite as the best grammars teach it. Oddly 
enough, her remarks were in the interest of a 
higher education in heathen lands. One could 
not avoid noticing the incongruity. A clergy- 
man who was in entire sympathy with the work 
said to me : " One who cannot speak English 
better than that ought not to talk on such a 
subject. It is actually prejudicial to the cause." 

Now, girls, I would not have you too fas- 
tidious, nor too critical of others ; but you see 
what the lesson is — watch for your own trip- 
pings ; criticise yourselves. 



VIII. 
CONVERSATION. 

My last letter was too long to admit one or 
two hints which should have come into it. 
Let me give them here. It is said that Amer- 
ican girls are especially inclined to slang and 
to extravagance of expression. I will only 
say that the first of these is vulgar and the 
second approaches untruthfulness. (Just now 
I heard a girl say, " I am dying for a pair of 
slippers.") 

Conversation in its usual acceptation is be- 
tween two or more, and implies that you 
should be a good listener. You should give 
the others a chance. A girl who talks on 
and on in a steady stream soon becomes tire- 
some, even if she talks well. 

What shall we talk about? It would be 
worse than useless to mention subjects ; their 
name is legion. Perhaps it would be easier 
to take the other side : What shall we not 
talk about ? Every rule has its exceptions, so 
that it is safe to say, do not talk about your- 

(33) 



34 LETTERS TO GIRLS. 

self or your neighbors. You know the dis- 
agreeable boasters among the boys and girls. 
Some of us have met really great men whose 
egotism almost overshadowed their greatness. 
If it becomes necessary to speak of self, do it 
as quietly and modestly as possible, and if you 
must speak of your neighbors, be sure you do 
it kindly. A story is told of an old lady whose 
habit of kind speech was so well known that it 
was declared she would have something good 
to say even of the devil. And, to be sure, when 
he was berated in her presence, she said, " We 
would all do well to imitate his perseverance." 
There is no one so bad in whom you cannot 
pick out a good trait, and it is better to be 
absolutely silent than to speak evil. You will 
find a text on that very point so positive that 
it may well be considered a command. 

Still less should you talk of the private 
affairs of others, no matter in what way you 
come to know them ; nor should you impute 
motives, or wonder why one does this or that. 
I would have my girls guard especially against 
any tendency to gossip. You will not always 
be as now — in the shelter of your own homes. 
Remember that the things which it may be 
perfectly discreet and right to speak of to 
your mothers, or to the sisters who are your 



CONVERSATION. 35 

second selves, it would be most unwise and 
harmful to say to outsiders. 

You will not live many years without seeing 
persons bitterly grieved, and even lives blight- 
ed, and trace these sad results to idle talk. I 
know of nothing, indeed, which narrows and 
belittles the mind more than gossip. 

Let me impress on you that habits of talk 
are formed as easily and imperceptibly as any 
habits. The golden rule comes in here also. 
The thought, " Would I like this said about 
myself, or about my brother, or my friend ? " 
would check many unkind remarks. 

What about fun and merry-making ? With 
all my heart, if they hurt no one. Some persons 
think the text about " foolish talking and jest- 
ing " was meant to stop all fun. I cannot believe 
so ; but, as the connection shows, only that 
which is coarse and low. They forget that the 
Bible also says, "A merry heart doeth good like 
a medicine." In a world where there is much 
sorrow, and illness, and depression, I would 
cultivate merriment, but I would restrain the 
cutting repartee which hurts because it cuts. 

What was said about proper subjects of 
curiosity might be repeated in regard to con- 
versation ; talk about public events, nature, 
science, this wonderful world. 



36 LETTERS TO GIRLS. 

Dear girls, I would not close this letter 
without another hint. " Let your speech be 
always with grace, seasoned with salt." Al- 
ways such as a Christian's ought to be, and 
sprinkled with words which will show to whose 
family you belong. Not words dragged in 
from a sense of duty, but coming naturally, 
because they are " out of the abundance of 
the heart." 

How many days do you think you would 
be with friends and not mention your father 
and mother, your brothers and sisters ? There 
is a Heavenly Father and an elder Brother. 
There is a beautiful verse which I like to re- 
peat : " Then they that feared the Lord, 
spake often one to another, and the Lord 
hearkened and heard it, and a book of remem- 
brance was written before Him for them that 
feared the Lord, and that thought upon His 
name. And they shall be mine, saith the 
Lord of hosts, in that day when I make up 
my jewels." What a wonderful reward for 
right speaking ! 



IX. 
READING. 

It was an original reply once given me by 
a lady who was too ill to read much, and yet 
showed great intelligence in conversation. I 
said, " How do you manage it?" and she an- 
swered, " I pick other people's brains." 

The following incident was told me by a 
friend : " A woman called on us one morning 
who was to deliver a lecture the same even- 
ing. On the table lay a new book which just 
then attracted much attention. She had not 
read it, and we had. She led us on to talk 
of it by a few adroit questions, and that even- 
ing in her lecture she alluded to it in such a 
manner as to leave no doubt in the minds of 
the audience that she had mastered its con- 
tents." She too had " picked other people's 
brains." I don't deny that in this busy world 
there is some excuse for such a shortening 
process as this. We cannot read everything, 
and must be satisfied on many subjects to get 
here and there a thought. It is true now as 

(37) 



38 LETTERS TO GIRLS. 

in Solomon's time, that " of making many- 
books there is no end." I say it reverently, 
it seems to me one of the joys of the eternal 
life, that when time shall be no longer there 
will be time for all that study and research we 
have wished for here. 

But, girls, you may be assured you must 
read thoroughly and well at first to know how 
to skim the cream in later years. I do not 
propose to make out a list for you to follow. 
You cannot have read the newspapers for 
months past without seeing the titles of the 
several " hundred books " preferred by differ- 
ent distinguished men. They show us that 
no person can decide positively for another, 
yet they are all helpful as suggestions. 

I wish you to form a taste for the best, and 
that can only be done by reading the best. 
History and biography and travel are now 
made as interesting as romance ; the natural 
sciences have long since ceased to be dry, and 
it will be great gain to you if you read some- 
what in the line of your studies. 

I know you are longing to ask what I think 
about fiction. Well, my dears, I don't expect 
ever to be too old to enjoy a good story. 
But let novels be your cake and sweetmeats, 
not your constant food, and let them be of 



READING. 39 

the fine and wholesome sort. For there is a 
dissipation of mind which weakens it for any- 
stronger diet. I remember once reading sto- 
ries until Iwas startled to find I couldn't read 
anything else ; nothing else would hold my 
attention. Fortunately I resolved this must 
be stopped ; I would read history for at least 
thirty minutes every day, and so the habit was 
broken. I cannot look back to my school- 
days without gratitude to a teacher who took 
me in hand, and to whom is largely due what- 
ever liking I have for good literature. He in- 
troduced me to Scott and Dickens, and in 
poetry I recall how he feared I would like 
Moore and Byron ; and how he assured me 
that an impure fountain could not send forth 
sweet waters. 

As you grow older, I venture to say some 
books will become your friends, and you will 
read them over and over as long as you live. 
How important, then, that they should be 
good friends, wise friends. 

You read your Bible every day, I doubt not, 
but perhaps you do so thinking of it only as 
the guide to the blessed eternal life. It is 
that, first and foremost, making the way so 
plain that none need wander from it. But 
you will miss part of the benefit if you do not 



40 LETTERS TO GIRLS. 

see that its history is the oldest, its laws the 
best, its science the truest, its poetry the 
grandest as well as the sweetest, its whole 
literature the most ennobling and refining. 
It is the one Book of which we may speak in 
superlatives. 

I can wish no better wish for my girls than 
that their minds may be moulded by its teach- 
ings, and their hearts pervaded by its spirit. 



X. 

THINKING. 

The longer I write to you, the more real 
and personal you seem to me. I catch myself 
thinking of your varying expressions, and in 
imagination watch the play of mind upon 
your faces. One is breaking into a smile ; 
the fun just ripples and breaks all over. One 
has sad eyes ; another looks abstracted or 
anxious. I could wish we might play the old 
childhood game, "A penny for your thoughts," 
and so I could get a peep inside at the real 
you. 

It almost takes one's breath away to think 
about thought. How these busy minds of 
ours work on and on, never ceasing for an in- 
stant in our waking hours, and when we sleep 
it is " perchance to dream." Try to stop 
thinking — you cannot do it ; necessity is laid 
upon you — you must think. 

No wonder that such a ceaseless force with- 
in should have the greatest influence on your 
lives ; no wonder the Bible should go farther 

(4i) 



42 LETTERS TO GIRLS. 

than that, and say : " As a man thinketh in 
his heart, so is he" That looks as if we might 
be responsible for what we think about, doesn't 
it ? It looks as if to be right ourselves we 
must have right thoughts. 

I fancy the puzzled expression of your faces 
as the question comes back to me, " How can 
I help myself? Thought is quicker than 
lightning ; it flashes in and out without my 
choice." True, girls, but it does not stay in 
without your choice. An old, quaint answer 
is this : " I cannot hinder the birds from fly- 
ing over my head, but I can hinder their stop- 
ping to make nests in my hair." That secret 
power called will can do a great deal in this 
matter. 

I think I can make it plain to you. Sup- 
pose you have a difficult lesson to learn at 
school. You sit idly at your desk, letting 
your attention wander to the dress of some 
other girl, or thinking of the picnic you will 
have next Saturday. When recitation comes 
you fail miserably and get marked for it, but 
it doesn't occur to the teacher, or to yourself 
even, that any one is to blame except yourself. 
You know perfectly well you could have con- 
centrated your thoughts upon the lesson and 
mastered it ; in point of fact, let us say, you 



THINKING. 43 

usually do so. It was a simple question of 
will, or, if you prefer it, of choice. You are 
clever enough to apply this principle to the 
thronging thoughts which will come trooping 
into your minds every day of life. 

When you remember that what you read 
will do you little good unless you think it 
over, you will see one important phase of this 
subject. Still more : when you reflect that 
thought determines character; that to think 
of silly, frivolous things will make you silly ; 
to think of high and noble things will make 
you noble ; and also that there was never a 
low, impure, sinful deed but originated in a 
bad thought ; never a good, pure, kindly act 
but had its birth in a good thought — then I 
am sure you will realize how much the quality 
of your thinking has to do with your own 
happiness and usefulness. We do not suffi- 
ciently value the importance of this tendency. 

Take your Bibles, please, and turn to Phi- 
lippians iv. 8, and mark the passage : " What- 
soever things are true, whatsoever things are 
honorable, whatsoever things are just, whatso- 
ever things are pure, whatsoever things are 
lovely, whatsoever things are of good report ; 
if there be any virtue, and if there be any 
praise, think on these things." 



44 LETTERS TO GIRLS. 

Accustom yourselves to bring your thoughts 
to this test ; to try them by this standard. 
See how it will modify and render kindly your 
judgment of others, when you search for 
things of good report, when you remember 
that " love thinketh no evil "; see how it will 
put away from you whatever is unworthy or 
ignoble, and turn you toward all that is pure 
and good. 

Believe me, the expression " habits of 
thought " is no misnomer. Nothing is easier 
than to let the mind drift in an idle, aimless 
fashion, till concentrated thought is next to 
impossible ; and few things are better worth 
striving for than the ability to think to good 
purpose. 



XI. 
MANNERS. 

" Manners maketh man." " There is al- 
ways a best way of doing anything, even if it 
be only to boil an egg. Manners are the hap- 
py ways of doing things." 

I like these much-in-little sayings. Now, 
girls, I am not writing letters on etiquette ; I 
am only giving hints which I wish may help 
you to make the best of yourselves. As I 
wrote the words " manners maketh man," I 
thought that, even more, manners maketh 
woman. So many things are comprised in 
them ; probably not one subject has been dis- 
cussed in these letters but has its part in 
their formation. 

Just here I would like to say a little on 
what you may think a minor point, namely, 
attitude. In " Farmer Tompkins and his Bi- 
bles," Professor Beecher gives an entertaining 
account of the old farmer who had married a 
"school-ma'am." She took his rude speech 
and uncouth ways in hand, and by private 

(45) 



46 LETTERS TO GIRLS. 

agreement, when he tripped in his English 
she was to say one, two, or three " Thistles," 
as the case might be; if he tilted his chair 
or used his fork for a toothpick, she said 
" Stumps," at which he promptly corrected 
himself. 

Ah ! girls, how often, when I have seen you 
or your seniors striding along in a conspicu- 
ous way, lounging in public places, sitting 
with knees crossed, or in any other mannish 
attitude, I have wished I might cry " Stumps ! " 
I recall a young lady of good family, but not 
of brilliant parts, and never forgot the remark 
made about her by a very cultivated woman. 
She said : " Mary is not a bit clever, but she 
doesn't talk much, and she never assumes an 
unladylike attitude, so 1 am never ashamed of 
her." A little thing, I know, but it goes to 
make up the great sum of influence. 

I am not ignorant that there is a conven- 
tional polish ; that fine manners sometimes 
cover base characters ; but it ought not so to 
be. They ought to be the outward expression 
of what is refined, unselfish, and noble within. 
To go into this would be to discuss all that is 
sincere and thorough in us. 

What I wish you to take into your thoughts 
is this : that good breeding is largely Christian 



MANNERS. 47 

living. One of the most thorough gentlemen 
I have ever known was a Christian minister 
who had been a country lad, and whose entire 
ministerial life was spent in an obscure, rural 
parish. But he had the fine courtesy, the nice 
sense of the rights of others, the noble humility 
which took the low seat until asked to come 
up higher. In a word, he was a gentleman 
because he lived out the Bible teaching. Have 
you not read where it says, " Be courteous," 
" In honor preferring one another," " Not 
strive, but be gentle, patient," and many other 
passages like them ? Probably you did not 
think of their bearing on this subject. We so 
often read the Bible carelessly, and lose the 
practical, every-day lessons. There is no stand- 
ard of courtesy better than is contained in it. 

I am sure St. Paul was a real gentleman. 
What exquisite tact he showed in his speech 
before Agrippa, and in the opening of the ad- 
dress on Mars' Hill. And how ready he was 
to apologize when he had spoken in a wrong 
way to the high-priest. 

My dear girls, do not mistake me. The 
last thing in the world I want for you is to 
be feminine prigs ; or those proper individuals 
who have just said " prunes and prisms," and 
are afraid of getting their mouths out of 



48 LETTERS TO GIRLS. 

pucker. Be natural. Is it another paradox to 
say, cultivate naturalness? No, it is only say- 
ing cultivate the sweetness, purity, and unself- 
ishness which ought to be in every girl's 
heart ; I mean in every heart which has been 
washed in the Saviour's blood. Let all graces 
of manner be their outward expression, for thus 
shall you honor the King whose daughters you 

are. 

" This is to my lady's praise ; 
Shame before her is shamed ; 
Hate cannot hate repeat. 
She is so pure of ways 
There is no sin is named 
But falls before her feet ; 
Because she is so frankly free, 
So tender, and so good to see, 
Because she is so sweet." 



XII. 

DRESS. 

In the wealth of color which bursts on us as 
we look on a summer landscape, we see what 
pains God has taken to give to our earth a 
beautiful dress. We can conceive a state of 
things where the eye would be constantly- 
pained by the sight of ugliness, but it is now 
far otherwise. May we not believe that our 
Father loves the beautiful, and loves to pro- 
vide for the adorning of His works? We 
know our Saviour was not indifferent to it, 
since He used the glory of the lilies to point 
some of His most precious sayings. Nor 
were those words about " wherewithal ye shall 
be clothed " directed against the kind of 
thought we are to talk of, but rather against 
that anxiety concerning temporal care, which is 
not seemly in a child of our Heavenly Father. 

I cannot think that when the apostle wrote 
as he did about " plaiting the hair," wearing 
" jewels of gold," or " putting on apparel," he 
meant to say you must never dress your hair in 

(49) 



50 LETTERS TO GIRLS. 

pretty ways, or wear a keepsake, or try to have 
your gown becoming. No ; I think he meant 
to teach that these things were of little value 
as compared to the adornment of a " meek 
and quiet spirit." You may have every at- 
traction of dress, but if you give your atten- 
tion to that only, you are like a paste diamond 
in a rich setting — you have no value. 

Some Christians have read these passages 
with great literalness. When, as a child, I 
came to the Saviour, I remember some one 
said that I couldn't be a Christian, because 
an innocent little spray of artificial flowers 
bloomed modestly under my bonnet's brim. 
I would gladly have torn it out in my young 
zeal, but my wise mother explained that trust 
in Christ was not dependent upon such things. 
Indeed, a larger experience teaches me that 
there may be quite as much vanity in plain 
clothing as in the gayest attire. 

I have written enough on this point to show 
you that while your dress should not occupy 
the chief place in your thoughts, it must have 
some attention, and the wish to look pretty is 
not sinful. Now just a few suggestions. I 
don't forget that I am writing to all sorts and 
conditions of girls ; that my letters go to rich 
and poor, to the kitchen and the drawing-room. 



DRESS. 51 

So I say, let your dress be suitable ; do not wear 
a party dress in the morning, nor a silk dress to 
wash dishes in ; no laces and ornaments in the 
cars ; nor anything flashy anywhere. It has 
been said that in a public place a lady is best 
dressed when you cannot tell what she has on. 

It follows that as a rule you avoid conspicu- 
ous colors for outdoor wear; especially choose 
quiet shades if your purse will not allow many 
changes. Dress modestly ; dress healthfully ; 
in these days there are plenty of systems for 
that. Avoid extremes of fashion. I had 
nearly forgotten to say (what indeed ought 
not to be necessary), that dress must be al- 
ways neat and whole. I can think of nothing 
more incongruous than an untidy girl. The 
two words ought never to be joined. A girl's 
dress ought to be always sweet, clean, dainty. 
I recall one friend in particular. I care not 
where you found her ; washing dishes in her 
kitchen, working among her flowers, entertain- 
ing in her parlor, she was always neat, always 
suitably dressed ; there was no time nor place 
where she did not look " every inch a lady." 

We are apt to look upon rich, handsomely 
dressed girls and imagine their apparel must 
have occupied all their thoughts, but the fact 
is the girl who has less money is the one who 



52 LETTERS TO GIRLS. 

must give the thought, since she must plan, 
and contrive, and piece out. Let the care you 
must give to your clothes be beforehand. Once 
dressed, forget all about them. You may be a 
fine bird if you seem conscious of fine feathers, 
but you will not grow into a self-respecting 
woman whose best care is for herself, rather 
than for her outward adornments. 

Is this a disappointing letter, girls? Did 
you think when you opened it I would tell you 
about the latest styles? I wanted rather to 
give you some thoughts which will be helps 
always, some fashions which will never go out. 



XIII. 
MONEY. 

You may be surprised to get a letter on 
this subject, but I regard the right use of 
money as one of the most important lessons a 
girl can learn. I can fancy the different 
thoughts which will come to you as you read 
that sentence. Perhaps a few of you can say 
truthfully, " I wish I had any money to use "; 
the majority will think they would gladly have 
more ; and a few others will toss their heads 
gayly as they remember that they have only 
to ask in order to get any reasonable sum that 
they wish. I feel more solicitude for this last 
class than for the first, because they are in such 
danger of growing up hard and selfish, with no 
sympathy for the privations and wants they 
have never experienced. They will be too apt 
to throw away money just for personal gratifi- 
cation, forgetting that it is lent of God, and 
that some time He will ask how it has been 
used. 

Girls, have you ever read this quaint prayer? 

(53) 



54 LETTERS TO GIRLS. 

" Give me neither poverty nor riches ; feed me 
with food convenient for me ; lest I be full and 
deny Thee, and say, who is the Lord ? — or lest 
I be poor, and steal, and take the name of my 
God in vain." Evidently one man was wise 
enough to ask for the right thing ; to see that 
it was better to pray for just enough than for 
too much. Doubtless, as I said at the start, 
the most of you are in this safer place, neither 
very rich nor very poor ; but wherever you are, 
in that respect you are not now responsible 
for it; you are where God has placed you. 
What you have to do now is to learn in little 
ways the value and right use of money, so 
that when the time of responsibility does come, 
you will be ready. 

I don't forget that money with young girls 
is a very variable quantity, depending largely 
upon the indulgence or caprice of others. I 
believe if those parents who like so well to 
gratify you could know what a pleasure it 
would be, they would grant you each an al- 
lowance. Some girls could be trusted to buy 
everything they need from clothing to candy ; 
and every one of you would be the better for 
having an allowance of spending-money, if it 
was not more than five cents a week ; but 
your very own, to do with exactly as you 



MONEY. 55 

please, and account to your own conscience 
for it. I think, girls, I should do a little coax- 
ing, a little special pleading, to accomplish 
this, if I were you. Some of you know the 
pleasure of earning what you have : a real 
pleasure it often is. 

But however it comes, the first thing in a 
practical way is to keep a cash account. It is 
very simple ; your father or brother will teach 
you how, and the time comes too quickly to 
most of us when such a habit is of great im- 
portance. Balance the account at least once 
a month, and know where all the dimes go. 
Where shall they go ? Well, I cannot say 
just what proportion shall be spent for trin- 
kets, and gifts, and candy, and books, and con- 
certs, and all the numberless things which a 
girl wants. But I can give you a truth to 
start upon which will prove a safe rule ; 
whether you have little or much, it is not 
yours, but God's, and you ought not to use 
any of it without asking Him, and some defi- 
nite part should always be used for Him. 
There is a plain direction given us to " lay by 
in store as God has prospered." That is not 
only for the girl who has, say, five dollars a 
week to spend ; it is as well for one who has 
only five cents a week. 



56 LETTERS TO GIRLS. 

You see, girls, I wish you to grow up not 
only to use money wisely and prudently for 
yourselves, but to have the joy of dispensing 
blessings with it to others. And this joy the 
poorest of you may have. Do you know why 
the great causes of benevolence and religion 
do not get on faster? Well, I can tell you 
what I see, and what our great religious pa- 
pers say. They say it is not because the 
American people are penurious ; they are the 
most free-handed in the world ; but it is be- 
cause they spend so much on themselves. As 
fast as they grow rich their wants increase, 
and many of them gratify themselves first, 
leaving what they give away to a haphazard 
impulse. The trouble is they didn't begin 
right ; it was self first, and God's cause last, 
when it ought to have been the reverse. 

I know one family (and there are many 
such — more and more every year, thank God !) 
who used the one-tenth plan. They were by 
no means rich. The mother, a widow, kept a 
cash account, one page headed, " The Lord's 
Money," the opposite page, "Expenditures." 
No matter how small the sum that came to her, 
the tenth was taken from it ; if only a dollar, 
ten cents went down to the Lord's Money. 
You see, it made giving very easy. When any 



MONEY. 57 

call came, she had only to run up the account 
to see if there was money in readiness. 

I know of no better suggestion than this : 
to lay by a certain proportion. I do not say 
what it shall be for you ; but for myself, if I 
had only ten cents a month, I think twelve 
cents a year should go to help some one else. 



XIV. 
WORK. 

In these days when everything is organized 
and classified, we hear a great deal about 
brain work, hand work, heart work, man's 
work, woman's work. When one who lives a 
secluded life goes out into the world, perhaps 
the strongest impression is of doing, doing, 
doing. This is quite right. There is much 
work to be done, and I trust each of you may 
" lend a hand." 

But there are two kinds of work so distinct- 
ly feminine, it is worth while to talk of them 
a little before we say anything about the so- 
called wider spheres. Since the first home 
was set up they have been necessary, and it is 
safe to say their mission will not be ended so 
long as there are homes on earth. Whatever 
a woman may do outside, house-work and 
needle-work will be necessary occupations. 
Therefore, my girls, it is scarcely extravagant 
to say, if you expect to lead happy, useful 
lives, you must know how to do these. Such 
(58) 



work. 59 

knowledge is the oil which smooths all fric- 
tion in the domestic machinery. 

To many of you it is no new thing to do 
house-work. In our free land, where there 
are few class distinctions, many families by no 
means poor keep no domestics. The work is 
divided between mother and daughters, per- 
haps with a weekly visit from the " Madonna 
of the Tubs." Girls in such homes, do not 
envy your more idle sisters, but think now, as 
you surely will farther on, what a beautiful 
education it is. 

I well know some will say, " We have serv- 
ants, there is no need for me to work "; and 
think, if you do not say it, " It is beneath 
me." Now, I have a great deal of patience 
with such things, because, in girls like you 
who really wish to be sensible, they only show 
immaturity ; you will think differently by and 
by. All your short lives you have felt no jar 
in the household. Every day, breakfast and 
dinner and supper have followed each other 
in endless round as unconsciously to you as if 
the Irish fairies below-stairs had been under a 
magician's wand ; and so they have — the ma- 
gician's name is " Mother." Let long-contin- 
ued absence or illness lay her aside, and you 
will see the difference. Because you will not 



60 LETTERS TO GIRLS. 

always have her — some day you may have 
your own home ; some day the happiness of 
that home will depend on you ; some day the 
fairies may flit without a month's notice — be- 
cause of these things which most likely will 
come, get ready for them now. Learn now, 
so, if need be, you can bid defiance to the 
future Bridget, and hold peacefully on your 
way, secure in knowing " how to bake and 
how to brew," and never, never think such 
knowledge beneath a gentlewoman. 

I doubt not the word needle-work seems 
more agreeable to you as ambitions to learn 
" Kensington " rise within you. But I use it 
in its larger sense — any work done with a 
needle. In these days of sewing-machines I 
fear my girls may not know much of it, ex- 
cept as embroidery. Yet I wish you might 
know how to cut, and make, and mend. There 
used to be a fine-art in mending. Pieces of 
table linen, almost heirlooms, have come down 
from my grandmother — the little worn places 
cut out round and filled in with the finest lace 
stitch. There are real laces mended so beau- 
tifully as to enhance their value. It is not 
very long either since 1 heard a father tell his 
daughter that she should have a ring when 
she could make a loaf of bread and a shirt. 



WORK. 6 1 

In "The Marble Faun," Hawthorne has an 
exquisite passage on needle-work. It is too 
long to quote entire, but let me give one sen- 
tence : " Methinks it is a token of healthy 
and gentle characteristics, when women of 
high thoughts and accomplishments love to 
sew ; especially as they are never more at 
home with their own hearts than when so 
occupied." 

I can tell you, girls, many a man envies us 
the privilege. Is he ill, or weary in mind ? — 
no light, pretty work may grow beneath his 
fingers, and charm dull care away. I knew 
one such man once ; broken down by business 
cares, he could not sleep, he could not read ; 
the physicians were at fault. As a last re- 
source he learned needle-work, and actually 
wrought a beautiful embroidery for his wife's 
gown, and saved his own life as the result. 

Turn now to the last chapter of Proverbs : 
read on from the tenth verse and see if you 
don't find something about woman's work 
there. Perhaps you have tried picking out 
birthday verses from this chapter. Let me 
tell you a secret — mine is the thirteenth ; 
don't you think it is a good one, and do you 
wonder I like to write about work? 



XV. 
SERVICE. 

In the last letter we talked about work as it 
comes to most girls. You may think this 
word service is only another way of expressing 
the same thing. Not quite ; all work is not 
service, and all service is not work. The little 
bell-boys who run on errands in hotels may sit 
near the office many minutes doing nothing, 
but they are serving, simply because they wait 
ready to jump at the first call. You may be 
surprised when I say that service seems to me 
higher than work, since it has in it an element 
of unselfishness ; it must be for another, a 
doing or not doing which goes out of self. 

Put it out of your minds at once that there 
is anything degrading in it. The domestic in 
the kitchen, if she does her work well, is 
worthy of your respect. She has not your 
education, your refinement, your advantages, 
but in her place she may be doing better than 
you are in yours. 

Have you thought how this word service 
(62) 



SERVICE. 63 

runs up through all ranks, from the lowest to 
the highest? You would deem it an honor 
for your father to be minister to a foreign 
court ; but a United States minister is a serv- 
ant ; that is the meaning of the word minis- 
ter. You might not like to be a lady's maid, 
but titled ladies are glad to wait upon the 
Queen. I said the idea of service runs up 
through all the grades of life. Should I not 
rather say that it begins with the highest and 
descends through all ? Our Saviour said, " I 
am among you as he that serveth." " The 
Son of Man came not to be ministered unto, 
but to minister." In Bible times as now per- 
sons of all classes came to the Master, but then 
as now more of the poor than of the rich, and 
there are many passages telling them exactly 
how to serve. Especially they are told, " Do 
it heartily as to the Lord and not unto men." 
Old George Herbert has a stanza often 
quoted, but I dare say you have not all seen 
it. Of the words " For Thy Sake " he sings : 

" A servant with this clause 
Makes drudgery divine ; 
Who sweeps a room as for Thy laws, 
Makes that, and the action fine." 

You know, girls, the better you love your 
mother the easier it becomes to do even un- 



64 LETTERS TO GIRLS. 

pleasant things because she wishes it ; it puts 
a higher motive into the doing. Carry this a 
step farther, and do all things " for the love of 
Christ," and you reach the freest, happiest life. 

" In service which Thy will appoints 

There are no bonds for me ; 
My inmost heart is taught the truth 

That makes Thy children free ; 
A life of self-renouncing love 

Is one of liberty." 

This ought to be a very practical letter to 
you, as I don't see how you can live a day 
without service of some sort, and not be ut- 
terly selfish. Start out in the morning with 
the resolve that some one shall be the happier 
or the better to-day because you are alive. 
Look for opportunities, and they will not be 
wanting. Everywhere a kind act, a kind word, 
or even a kind look helps, and some life into 
which the rain is falling, will catch a glimpse 
of sunshine. Think what value Christ sets on 
little deeds, when He said even the giving 
of a cup of cold water should not lose its re- 
ward. Be willing to begin with small services 
which lie close at hand, then you will grow 
fit for large things. " He that is faithful in a 
very little, is faithful also in much." Render 
the service to-day ; it may not come to you 



SERVICE. 65 

to-morrow. Remember, " I shall not pass this 
way again." 

I do not forget that service sometimes means 
waiting. This letter goes to some who wait. 
It would be too bad if my girls who lie on 
sick-beds should find no word for them. There 
is no better thing in all the world than pa- 
tiently to do His will. You have heard of the 
old woman who said : " The Lord speaks to 
me in the night and says, ' Cough, Becky ; 
Cough, Becky,' and so I do cough to the 
glory of God." You may smile at the quaint 
speech, but it holds a brave truth. 

" Yes, God loves patience ; souls that dwell in still- 
ness, 
Doing the little things or resting quiet, 
May just as perfectly fulfil their mission, 
Be just as useful in the Father's sight." 



XVI. 

SPECIALTIES. 

Do not be weary if I ask you to think about 
another phase of work. Because I have lived 
more years than you and know something of 
the emergencies of life, I should be glad if I 
might help you to meet them better when 
they arise. The wise old Jews taught each 
boy a trade ; rich or poor, high or low, it 
didn't matter, each must learn a trade. So we 
read that St. Paul was a tent-maker, and he tells 
in more than one letter that he wrought with 
his own hands, and was not chargeable to any- 
body ; a real, noble spirit of independence. I 
wish there was something of this sort for girls. 
I wish each of you would now take up some 
one pursuit, and become skillful in it. I don't 
care much what it is, only it would be better 
if it were something to which your taste 
points — music, painting, dressmaking, millin- 
ery, stenography. I might mention a hundred 
things girls may do now ; some handiwork or 
some study which shall be your specialty, and 
(66) 



SPECIALTIES. 67 

which has a marketable value. Do you ask 
what for ? Because the time may come when 
you will need it. Riches take wings ; especi- 
ally in America. Fortune is a capricious god- 
dess. Smiles to-day are frowns to-morrow. 
Fathers die ; families are broken up ; even 
nice, sweet girls like you, my dears, do not 
always marry ; there is no getting away from 
the fact that some day the knowing how to do 
one thing thoroughly may make all the differ- 
ence to you and yours, between comfort and 
absolute privation. 

I have often felt that those who are to be 
pitied most are not the ones who have been 
always poor, but the many, many gentlewomen 
who have seen better days, whose delicacy will 
not let their needs be known — will not allow 
them to push for themselves, and who find too 
late that the world asks and will pay for only 
skilled labor. With a fair education they excel 
in nothing perhaps but homekeeping. Alas ! 
they have no homes to keep now, or if they 
have, they depend on outside work for their 
continuance. I am not trying to draw a dis- 
mal picture. Do not forebode evil, but forestall 
it by an easy provision now. 

There is another use for specialties scarcely 
less important. Some attainment thoroughly 



68 LETTERS TO GIRLS. 

mastered, even though no need arises of turning 
it to practical account, may do good as a recre- 
ation and as a refuge from sorrowful thought. 
You will hardly understand this yet, because 
thus far life has been full of joy. I dislike to 
say a word to throw a damper on it, and in- 
deed I will not, if you look at it aright. In 
one sense, all life is a getting ready for life 
farther on, and for that there should be, not 
worry or fear, but wise forethought. I know 
at least one person who wishes some one had 
told her years ago just what I am telling you 
now. 

Days of invalidism will come ; times of sor- 
row will come ; years, perhaps, when you must 
endure much. Then some one gift or taste is 
such a refuge. I have a friend who has been 
for many years too feeble to do any vigorous 
work ; her life left lonely because her dearest 
have entered the life beyond ; but she paints, 
and she loves flowers. I wish you could see 
her botany. She had one of Gray's larger 
works unbound, and bound again with many 
blank leaves scattered through. Summer by 
summer the pages grow crowded with her il- 
lustrations. Lovely sprays wander from the 
margins, and lightly droop upon, but do not 
obscure the print. Each new locality she 



SPECIALTIES. 69 

visits adds its treasures. The humblest wild- 
flower has its charms for her ; her brush fixes 
its likeness, and then it is remorselessly pulled 
to pieces for analysis. 

Every now and then she takes some sweet, 
uplifting poem, copies it on a card, and ties it 
with a ribbon, paints upon the cover the rose, 
or the forget-me-not, or the pansy, perhaps, 
with their messages of love, of remembrance, 
of thought, and sends the dainty token to 
some friend. 

It has been God's way of bringing peace, 
comfort, and a quiet heart to one much tossed 
by grief. 



XVII. 

FRIENDSHIPS. 

If we did not know that there is a Provi- 
dence over every life, it would seem as if 
nothing was left more to chance than the 
choice of friends. Especially with young 
girls, they can hardly be said to choose, friend- 
ships are so much a matter of association, 
popularity, or caprice. The school you at- 
tend, the class you are in, the table you sit 
at, may determine all. Very possibly you 
like another because some one else likes or 
doesn't like her ; and I don't forget the sud- 
den intimacy, the gush of confidence, and the 
estrangement as sudden. It would be useless 
to talk against these ; they seem a part of 
girl-life, very real life while it lasts. Do I not 
remember well my first sorrow, when a child 
of eleven, when my bosom friend sickened and 
died ? Had she lived, we might have drifted 
far apart ; but now that little white memory 
always remains, my first glimpse of the open 
heaven and the children round the throne ; 
(70) 



FRIENDSHIPS. 7 1 

my first star, where there is now a constella- 
tion. 

Most of you to whom I write are not so 
young as that ; you are reaching the years 
when you do make some sort of choice, though 
now, as always, circumstance has much to do 
with it. I have heard a great deal of goody- 
goody talk to the effect that we ought to love 
everybody indiscriminately, as if that was the 
proper interpretation of the second command. 
I haven't much patience with what is simply 
an impossibility. I fall back with great satis- 
faction on the old mental philosophy distinc- 
tions, the love of benevolence and the love of 
complacency. The former you should have 
for every one ; it will make you kind, unself- 
ish, heedful of others' rights, benevolent, and 
in that sense a friend ; but it is essentially 
different from the latter, which delights in the 
friend on her own account. We know our 
Saviour had at least four such special friends 
— Mary and Martha, and Lazarus and John. 
We know too that He set a sacred seal on 
friendship when He said, " I have called you 
friends." Do you remember the proof He 
gave ? " For all things that I have heard from 
my Father, I have made known unto you." 
You see, then, as now, confidence was the test. 



72 LETTERS TO GIRLS. 

It would be an interesting study for you to 
search the Bible and find the number of times 
where friends are spoken of, and the various 
qualities by which they are distinguished. I 
think there must be scores of such passages. 

Emerson says: "A friend is a person with 
whom I may be sincere. Before him I may 
think aloud." Yet as any truth may be pushed 
to its opposite extreme, and as young people 
incline to too great frankness, and as their 
choice is not guided by infallible wisdom, a 
word of caution is needed. " Thy friend has 
a friend ; thy friend's friend has a friend ; be 
discreet." While a frank, confiding nature is 
usually a noble one, there is a certain dignity 
of reserve which puts some thoughts and feel- 
ings under lock, and does not give away the 
key. 

It is a happy thing if our friends are our 
superiors in goodness, or education, or man- 
ners, for by association we grow to be like 
them. You might think it would be a bad 
lookout for those who associate with you, if 
all should seek their superiors; but we are 
not alike, and you may excel in things which 
others lack, and thus mutual deficiencies are 
made up. 

As you grow older the circle will narrow 



FRIENDSHIPS. 73 

somewhat. Some you will outgrow, some 
will drop out of the pathway ; but those who 
remain will be more to you than tongue can 
tell. Some rare, sweet friendships will be 
given after you have reached life's meridian ; 
all the more valuable because by that time 
you will know whom to like. I don't believe 
at all that, in a healthy nature, confidence and 
trust die out as time goes on. There are 
those whom no length of absence could 
estrange, no silence of years make forgetful. 
" The paths to a true friend lie straight, 
though he be far away." 

And, my dears, one beautiful thing is, if 
only your choice has been wise, if your friends 
are of the right sort, that is, if they and you 
are friends of God, there need be no end to 
the dear relationship ; it can be continued up 
there ! 



XVIII. 

LETTER-WRITING. 

It is somewhat the fashion of the day to dis- 
parage letter-writing. It is true that the mails 
are crowded, that the increasing number of 
letters causes lower rates of postage, and the 
lower rates cause more letters to be sent ; but 
I am not speaking now of the business letters 
which fly to and fro ; neither have I quite in 
mind the epistles some of you write, in which the 
words stride over the paper in great masculine 
dashes whose largeness is not always legible- 
ness. Rather am I speaking of a certain fine 
art which some would-be practical people 
think ought to pass away. Lately quite an 
eminent teacher said something of that sort 
to me. She said she discouraged her girls in 
their wish to write letters ; she told them that 
in this busy rush of life there was so much to 
do that they must take the choice of doing 
the best things, and there were much better 
things to do than letter-writing. I ventured 
to reply that letter-writing seemed to me a 
(74) 



LETTER-WRITING. 75 

great educator, and that because this is a busy, 
rushing age, perhaps there was nothing girls 
needed more than training in the quiet, less 
showy accomplishments, which will go far to 
make them womanly women. Now and then 
one reads charming letters written by men ; 
nothing could be more delightful than those 
of Thackeray ; but, as a rule, women are the 
really graceful letter-writers. Nature makes 
them so. They are fond of details, and can 
usually express them in the vivid manner 
which gives picturesqueness to the common 
affairs of life. Therefore, girls, this seems to 
me one of the talents to be worked with, and 
to be accounted for, to our Master. 

I know just as well as if I was so impolite 
as to peep over your shoulder, that the letter 
you are writing to-day to your dearest Blanche 
is somewhat silly, somewhat extravagant ; but 
if you give thought to the matter, the next 
ought to be better, and the next, and the 
next. Because I hope to make you think, I 
take this subject now. 

I would be careful about putting too many 
confidences in letters ; talking secrets is bad 
enough, writing them is worse. I can remem- 
ber a romantic young friend who used to ask 
me to " put a piece of my heart on paper and 



76 LETTERS TO GIRLS. 

send it to her." I thought that was such a 
beautiful sentence. Very likely I did exactly 
as she asked, and sent her what in those days 
I thought was a piece of my heart. You see, 
girls, how entirely I am in sympathy with 
you when I can recall such things ; and yet, 
grown wiser now, I advise you not to do so. 
It is a good rule to be more reticent in letters, 
more discreet, than in speech. The spoken 
word may die with the breath ; the written 
word may be immortal. 

Now, I am far from wishing you to be stilted 
in writing. Our grandmothers tell of letters 
which began thus : " I take my pen in hand 
to inform you that I am In health, and hope 
these few lines will find you enjoying the 
same blessing." Eminently proper, but scarce- 
ly natural. 

I would have you aim to be helpful and 
sympathetic. There will be times when you 
must write your pleasure in some great joy 
which has come to another ; still more surely, 
when you must express sympathy in heavy 
sorrow. You will not only wish to do this, 
but it will be your most sacred duty. Some 
friend will need your courageous, uplifting 
word. How can you give it if you have 
neglected this talent? Still more, there is 



LETTER-WRITING. 77 

hardly a better way to touch another whom 
you would lead to the Saviour. You can be 
wise in a letter ; you can weigh the words ; 
you can choose what will best influence an- 
other. No one can read such a life as Mrs. 
Prentiss's and not see the far-reaching spiritual 
power of letters. Dear girls, this is one of 
the more important means of giving pure 
pleasure, true sympathy, and real help. 

I stop writing to read a letter just brought 
in. It is from an old lady of nearly eighty 
years, but with heart fresh and young. Full 
of vivid description, bright with humor, rever- 
ent with a sense of the care that has led her 
all these years — a delightful letter of eight 
pages, I say to myself : " When I am as old 
as she, may I be able to write like that, and 
show to others that ' age is a matter of feeling 
and not of years.' " 

One last word to each of you ; last, because 
most important ; to be remembered if you 
forget all the rest. Never begin a correspond- 
ence without the approval of your mother or 
guardian. 



XIX. 
READING ALOUD. 

ANOTHER pleasant accomplishment of the 
quiet sort which I hope you may have, is the 
ability to read aloud well. I do not allude 
now to what is usually termed elocution, in 
which too often naturalness is sacrificed to 
dramatic effect, when, as some one has said, 
the emphasis is scattered about in a sort of 
shotgun fashion in the effort to be striking. 
It may be well enough to recite before large 
numbers, but many of you will have no special 
gift or inclination that way. On the other 
hand, each one may some time be able to give 
great pleasure or add to the comfort of an- 
other by reading aloud. Reading, quietly, 
naturally, without gestures, in well-modulated 
tones, what a charming, womanly grace it is ! 

You might not think it, but a physician 
of large practice once told me that in many 
cases he knew of nothing more soothing and 
refreshing to his patients than the reading to 
them by some woman who had a sweet, sym- 
(78) 






READING ALOUD. 79 

pathetic voice. I myself had the following 
experience. A friend suddenly became totally 
blind. After having known for years and years 
this beautiful world of nature, having looked 
on the faces of friends, having enjoyed books 
with the keenest appreciation, suddenly all 
was darkened with a darkness never to be lifted 
in this life. No hope of relief ; she knew that 
henceforth she must grope her way. Well, it 
was a very little thing for me with my eyes, 
with all the abundance open to me which was 
shut out from her, to go to her every day for 
an hour of reading. You should have seen 
her sad face brighten, you should have heard 
her thankful words as she told how the thoughts 
stayed with her, and charmed the long, dark- 
ened hours. Was not my " cup of cold water " 
rewarded at once ? Indeed it was ; what was 
begun as a duty became my daily pleasure, 
and is now one of the most grateful mem- 
ories. 

Now, girls, this might easily come to any 
one of you. There will always be the invalid 
or the blind, the children or the aged to whom 
reading aloud will be a beautiful ministry. 
Some day it may well happen that you may 
thus save a life from despair. 

In the home, too, there are no happier hours 



80 LETTERS TO GIRLS. 

than when the lamps arc lighted on a winter's 
night, and the fire glows, and the pleasant circle 
gather with work in hand, while the voice of 
mother or daughter leads all the others to en- 
chanted ground. This is also most improv- 
ing. The Stopping to talk it over, the discus- 
sion of the thought expressed, the looking up 
of places, the friction of mind with mind, all 
are inspiring. The memory is quickened, and 
yOU retain far more when the words are fixed 
by the voice, as well as by the eye. To do 
this you must be a sympathetic reader; you 
must understand your author, and truly inter- 
pret him; for the time you must put yourself 
in his place. You must have the quick eye 
which glances to the end of the sentence as 
you begin it, and grasps its meaning at the 
glance. 

You will agree with me that other practice is 
needed besides what you get in school. Let me 
suggest a course at once possible and delight- 
ful. Read aloud with some one friend. Select 
a book you both wish to know, and read al- 
ternately. Let the dictionary lie open, and 
when there is doubt as to the meaning or pro- 
nunciation of a word, stop at once and look it 
up. You must be very good-natured about it, 
and sincerely desirous to improve, and not too 



READING ALOUD. 8 1 

sensitive about mistakes, or you will be impa- 
tient of criticism. But this course persisted 
in, will become a great pleasure and a great 
benefit. 

I am sure my girls who aim to give happi- 
ness cannot think over the suggestions of this 
letter without regarding reading aloud as an- 
other "opportunity." 



XX. 

INFLUENCE. 

Have you ever thought what power there 
is in silent things? What would you say is 
one of the irresistible forces in the universe? 
Something which works unceasingly and never 
makes the slightest sound ; something which 
opens flowers, and expands metals till they 
crack, yet touches all things with the same 
silent, gentle touch. Why, sunlight, of course. 
They tell us that Bunker Hill Monument is 
taller at noon of a summer's day than in the 
morning, because this silent force has lifted it. 

There is a fable that a traveller once walked 
along with his cloak wrapped about him. 
The Sun and the Wind laid a wager as to 
which could make him throw off the cloak. 
The Wind tried first, and suddenly rose from 
a gentle zephyr to a roaring, crashing tempest, 
but though the cloak was like to be torn into 
shreds the traveller only wrapped it the closer, 
and held it the tighter to protect himself from 
the storm. Then the Sun smiled a little, 
(82) 



INFLUENCE. 83 

peeping through the clouds as the Wind with- 
drew discomfited, and at the smile the traveller 
loosened his grasp a bit ; then the Sun smiled 
broader and broader till all its rays beat down 
on the pilgrim, and he was fain to cast aside 
the cloak. The silent force had won. You 
can think of many other forces which have no 
speech nor language ; without these their voice 
is heard. Such is the dew ; such are the at- 
tractions and repulsions which bind the worlds 
together, and yet send them swinging in their 
orbits. If there is a " music of the spheres " 
our ears are not yet attuned to hear it. 

Now, girls, there is in every life, yours and 
mine and every other, a silent power as potent 
in the moral world as these are in the physi- 
cal. I should call it unconscious influence ; 
that subtle something which comes from char- 
acter, and which we wield for good or bad be- 
cause we are ourselves intrinsically good or 
bad. One who was dear to me often used 
this expression in prayer, " Whatever else 
Thou dost deny, grant us the silent influence 
of a consistent Christian life." The prayer 
was answered to a remarkable degree, in long 
years full of sweet, beneficent power. 

" The blessing of her quiet life 
Fell on us like the dew : 



84 LETTERS TO GIRLS. 

And good thoughts, where her footsteps pressed, 
Like fairy blossoms grew." 

Let her petition be yours, dear girls. 

But there is a conscious influence as well. 
The time comes — must have come already to 
each — when you must consciously take sides for 
the right. You remember in the Tom Brown 
books little Arthur's first night at Rugby, when 
in that roomful of jeering boys he knelt in 
prayer, and how Tom tried it next morning, 
though it cost him much quaking and he had 
no idea what he prayed for, and how the exam- 
ple spread from room to room. Little Arthur 
had cast his pebble into that sea of boy life, and 
the ripples widened and widened till the whole 
expanse was stirred. I venture to say the very 
same thing has happened to some of you, at 
least I can remember when it took every par- 
ticle of my own courage to say my prayers in the 
presence of some girl who had not the habit, 
and, alas ! sometimes I played the coward. 

The days will come when you must give 
your word on vital questions, such as temper- 
ance, purity, and the like. You must refuse 
to smile when religion is made a jest or the 
Bible treated with irreverence. You must be 
ready to say by word and look, quietly but 
fearlessly, "lama Christian." 



INFLUENCE. 8$ 

Now, I do not say this is always easy. 
There is something in you, if you are sensitive, 
which strongly desires the approval of others, 
which likes to be in harmony with them. But 
where right is concerned you must be brave, 
and remember that gentleness can be very 
firm. I will tell you a secret, too, which you 
would find out for yourselves if you were older. 
Every one of those whose opinions you so 
dread to oppose, at heart will respect and ad- 
mire you more for your steadfastness. 

You can better estimate your influence over 
others by considering their influence over you. 
Think how many things you do from day to 
day because some one else does the same, or 
to please some one, or to make some one like 
you. In like manner they look to you. Then 
see the outreach of it ; because you do so your 
friend does the same ; because she does it one 
more does, and so on — you cannot get to the 
end. 

Pray, my dears, for the character which 
makes the unconscious influence right ; pray 
also to be " by constant watching wise," not 
taken unawares, but ready to exert the con- 
scious influence when occasion requires. 



XXI. 

MISSIONS. 

When I was as young a girl as you, or you, 
or you — whichever, Mary, or Helen, or Bess, 
is now reading this letter — girls did not know 
so very much about missions. It was a 
chance if their mothers did, for it is only in 
these later years that women have come into 
their rights. And I am sure no one will ob- 
ject if we claim such a kind of woman's right 
as that ; the right to work for our Master in 
behalf of other women and girls. Ignorance 
wasn't so much of a shame then as it is now. 
Nowadays, people in Christian homes are not 
considered very well informed if they are ig- 
norant about such things. 

Mrs. Bainbridge tells an amusing story of 
some ladies engaged in conversation. An- 
other, and a New England woman at that, 
who wished to join them, said : " I don't quite 
catch what you are talking about ; I have 
heard of telegraphs and telephones, but what 
are telugus?" (with a small "t"!) Now, I 
(86) 



MISSIONS. 2>7 

dare say every one of you knows something 
about the wonderful missionary work among 
the Telugus, even if you do not know just 
where on the great map of the world these 
people live. 

Another amusing incident is told of a wom- 
an on the cars. In the seat before her two 
were talking about zenana work. Every now 
and then the word floated to her ear, till she 
could resist no longer, and, leaning forward, 
she asked, " Is it anything like Kensington 
stitch ? " It is difficult to believe such things 
are true ; but their lesson is, if you would not 
be considered very ignorant, you must know 
about missions. You don't take interest in 
things, either, unless you know about them. 

I suppose most of you belong to one or 
other of the girls' societies which are spring- 
ing up in all our churches, at least I trust you 
do. Now, my dears, don't let this be a mat- 
ter of enthusiasm, only to die out when the 
novelty is over ; let it be a principle that you 
are to work for missions as long as you live. 
It is an old story (but if stories are only old 
enough, they are new to young people, and 
this one always stirs my blood), that a young 
minister once asked the Duke of Wellington 
what he thought of foreign missions, and the 



88 LETTERS TO GIRLS. 

brave old soldier thundered out, " Look to 
your marching orders ! M What did he mean ? 
Turn to the last chapter of Matthew, 19th 
verse, and you will see. The soldier doesn't 
question his marching orders ; he simply 
obeys. 

Some girls may sneer at you for going to 
missionary meetings ; they may say with an 
air, imitating some older people, " I don't be- 
lieve in missions," as if that settled it. Then 
please ask them if they believe in their beau- 
tiful homes, in their books and pictures, in 
their schools and churches, and tell them they 
are indebted to missions for all these. If mis- 
sionaries had not gone to England years ago, 
when the people were barbarians ; and long 
before that, if Paul had not gone over into 
Macedonia, where would we be, pray? But 
do it gently, girls, so as to win them. " In 
meekness instructing those that oppose them- 
selves." That was written to a minister, but 
I can't see why we may not take a hint 
from it. 

There are a great many reasons why you 
should be interested in missions, enough to 
fill a dozen letters. The chief one I have 
given ; because it is the Lord's command. 
" The second is like unto it. Thou shalt love 



MISSIONS. 89 

thy neighbor as thyself." "Thy neighbor," 
my dear, now when steam and electricity have 
made the world so small, is the little child- 
widow in India; the foot-bound maiden in 
China; the degraded, unclothed girl who is 
sold for so many cows in Africa. To " love 
thy neighbor as thyself" is to give her the 
same Bible that you have, to tell her of the 
same Saviour who saves you ; and this you can 
best do by praying and working for missions. 






XXII. 

MISSIONARIES. 

IT is difficult to say whether missions grow 
out of missionaries, or missionaries out of 
missions, so it was a question which letter 
should come first. I use this word in its 
l.ir^t r a missionary i> one who is sent. 

Christ said in that wonderful prayer, "As Thou 
didst send me into the world, even so send I 
them into the world." Girls, do you ever 
think that in "them" He included you and 
me, that we are sent as truly as the disciples 
who were with Him then? For if you read 
on a little, you will see that the Saviour was 
praying not only for the little band who were 
faithful then, but for everybody who should 
believe on Him to the end of time. I like to 
think that He looked down the centuries and 
saw you and me when He said it, and with 
omniscient glance perceived what each would 
be fitted for. Therefore, it is well to fix it in 
your minds that you are not here in any hap- 
hazard kind of a way, but for a purpose. 
(90) 



MISSIONARIES. 9 1 

Somebody will say, " Oh ! do let the girls 
have a good time while they are young; all 
this will come when they are older." " Beg 
pardon, madam, but you are mistaken. I fear 
it will not unless it begins now." I want you 
to have the best kind of a time, and I don't 
know a better way than for you to begin now 
to think what you are sent for. I venture to 
say that more than one of you already dreams 
of the future, and is planning for it too. Now 
put into those dreams the high thought, " I 
am sent " — the Saviour says sent as He was. 
That must mean to be good, to do good ; in 
every place to do the will of the Father. I 
cannot say, girls, how much this thought, put 
into all your plans, will change your outward 
lives. It may not change them at all, because 
you may be, so far as circumstances are con- 
cerned, just where He would have you stay. 
But it will make you take every plan of life 
to Him for approval, it will make His guid- 
ance very practical. It will involve three 
things : to be what He would have you be, to 
go where He would have you go, to do what 
He would have you do. 

It seems simple, does it not ? and it is sim- 
ple. Only to remember that you are sent, 
and to ask God to teach you so that you may 



92 LETTERS TO Gil 

I not the errand body 

It would not answer wry uell, when 
the mother fa I u ,.h you would 

the dressmaker's on your 

id " Lucy, please go 
t<> th 

Lucy should decide she « to the d 

as in that case there would 1> 
• dinner. 
Th it many errands to be done 

in the WOfld ; errands smal. Try 

to find out \ . :i ; think tbout it, pray 

about it keep an oj>< n heart to 

whisper of God 
it. 
There was a child oik . ailed to 

do a very painful errand. Four times the 
tO hiflO before he knew the 
. and then he k, Lord, for 

Thy servant heareth," and the Lord 
him strength to do the hard duty. So to you 
will com< th for any path God wishes 

you to walk in. 

It wouldn't be in my heart to close this let- 
ter without saying that I hope some of you 
may become missionaries in the ually 

given to the word. It is such a beautiful 
work, such a happy work to those who go. I 



MISSIONARIES. 93 

have met a great many of these missionaries, 
and I never saw one who did not rejoice in 
her errand. You couldn't say as much for 
everything. I remember one who had taught 
a thousand heathen women to read. Think 
of that ! A thousand women could read the 
Bible just because she was sent. Now, sup- 
pose she had thought her errand was to stay 
at home and lead the life of a society woman, 
what a disastrous mistake it would have been. 
My dears, I am by no means saying that 
society life is wrong, only it would have been 
wrong for her ; you may be ordered right 
into it, there to lead the beautiful life of a 
Christian woman. I only wish you each to 
remember that you are sent, and earnestly to 
seek and find the what-for of the sending. 



XXIII. 

CONCLUDING. 

ill not 1 re so far, 

without finding out that I wish you to be good. 

• 
maid, and let who will be clever"; th 
that : re DOt in- 

compatible. The longer I live, the more I am 
Convinced that what God wants of us is char. 

acter. He Irishes doing to grow out of being. 

this thought into your min 

will DC the key to many riddles. Now in 

been trying to talk about 

some things which go to make up character; 
thei words, trying to throw out hints and 

►ns which will help you to be good. 
Here and there I have touched on the aid 
you may receive from the Bible, but it will do 
no harm to impress that truth more str 
still. It ought to be the most practical book 
to every one of us. 

If you have a sum to work in arithmetic 
you turn to the rule; if you start on a rail- 

(04) 



CONCLUDING. 95 

way journey, you take the guide-book and fol- 
low it implicitly. Now, why not use just as 
much common sense in the guidance of a life? 
Why not turn to the Word which is a lamp 
to the feet, and a light to the path ? It will 
tell you how to keep pure in heart, in a sinful 
world, and by and by when you get older and 
sad days come, its promises will bring such 
comfort as no human words can express. 

There is another help not less important 
than this in determining character. You can- 
not live one day aright ; you cannot grow 
into gracious, useful womanhood without 
prayer. And this also I would have you re- 
gard, not as something far away and mysteri- 
ous, but as a real approach to a real friend. 
True, there is something which inspires awe 
and fear in the thought of God displeased 
with us for our sins, but if, as I trust is the 
case with you and me, we are forgiven, then 
God has accepted us as His children. There- 
fore we may go to Him as to a father, and I 
believe we please Him best the more we feel 
such a relationship. I would just as readily 
ask Him to help me to learn a lesson, or to 
make me sweet-mannered, or to keep me from 
being ill-natured, or to give me a new gown, 
as for any great spiritual gift. One request 



96 LETTERS TO GIRLS. 

might not be as important as another, but I 
should be certain my Father would give to 
each its proper attention, because He has told 
me in ** everything " to make my requests 
known to Him. As the years go by you will 
learn what happiness it adds to life, to take 
everything as from Him, to trace every event, 
be it glad or sad, to His hand. 

Another thing, my girls. We grow to be 
like the friends with whom we are intimate, 
and I have before referred to this well-known 
fact. Therefore I say with reverence, be in- 
timate with Christ if you would be like Him. 
Talk with Him daily, seek His aid in the 
most commonplace affairs, as well as in great 
matters ; never believe that there is any trouble 
or any wish too small to bring to Him. 

To your merry, young eyes, this may seem 
a very serious letter. Serious it is meant to 
be, but not gloomy in ths least. Banish for- 
ever from your mind the thought that religion 
is gloomy. As Christians, we ought to show 
to others that ours is the glad life, the free 
life. Every flower that blooms is for us, be- 
cause it is in our Father's garden. 

This is my last letter to you, and I could not 
close a series which has given me much pleas- 
ure, without telling you what I know to be 



CONCLUDING. 9/ 

true, that the Bible and prayer under the 
Spirit's power are the great aids to useful liv- 
ing. 

I am loath to say good-bye ; let me rather 
give to the sweet old word its true meaning 
— God be with you. Yes, God be with you 
every one, dear girls, for if He be with you, 
and if He be with me, sometime — somewhere 
we shall meet. 



